The Failure in the Fairytale
by RainingMonday
Summary: A year and a half in the future, Booth and Brennan are living out their happily ever after - at least until Brennan is brutally attacked. In the ashes of the life she built, can Brennan reconnect with her baby - even as her tragic past comes to light?
1. The Truth in the Tragedy

***~* The Failure in the Fairytale *~*  
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**Welcome to my first foray into Bones fanfiction! I began watching the show from the beginning this spring and fell in love with it - especially Booth and Brennan's relationship - and I've been addicted ever since. This, however, is my first story, so I would love some feedback. It's short, but rest assured that the actual chapters will be much longer. And just so you know, this story is rated M for a reason - please read with caution.**

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><p><strong>Prologue<br>Parker Booth**

At exactly eleven years and one week old, Parker Booth was neither unobservant nor naïve (the latter word had been on his vocab word list the week before the world came crashing down around all their ears). Hushed whispers between the adults, visitors to what had been their house for barely four months, and the barring of his view of the couch all belied tragedy, but as for what exactly had happened, Parker was unsure. He had wanted to ask his dad, but a tight, frightening look had been permanently in place since Friday, and he sensed his father was a few ill-advised words from exploding.

Angela had been waiting for him when he arrived home off the bus on Friday, ready for a weekend of TV, soccer games, and Bones's excellent macaroni and cheese. As his mom was vacationing in the Bahamas with Parker's new stepfather, Brent, Parker was able to spend an entire six weeks with his dad, Bones, and his six-month-old sister, Mallory. Just a week into his stay (and five days after his eleventh birthday), Parker arrived home to a tearful Angela, who said, when he asked, that something bad had happened to Brennan and no one could find her. She drove him, Mikey and Mallory to the Jeffersonian, where the four of them waited in her office for some news as Hodgins frantically analyzed particulates and his dad made phone call after phone call.

Bones had been recovered several hours later and taken immediately to Georgetown University Hospital, where things, to Parker, had begun to get strange. Only his dad and Angela were allowed in the ICU room, but Parker had caught a glimpse of Bones's bruised face through the glass. He felt a little sick to his stomach whenever he thought of her in that bed, hooked up to machines, eyes blank and distant, but as far as he knew, her injuries weren't life-threatening.

Not too long later, Mallory had begun to whimper pitifully, her big crystal blue eyes pleading as she grasped at Parker's vermilion t-shirt. He alerted Cam, who had been standing with Michelle nearby, that Mallory was hungry and that perhaps someone should tell Bones. Cam had told him that Brennan would most likely not be breastfeeding anymore, and the sadness lacing her words had silenced Parker's further inquiries. Even now, the bottle of formula Max had prepared rested on the kitchen counter, cooling rapidly. No one, not even Mallory's father, had been able to persuade the infant to down more than a couple of swallows.

Now the baby, once Bones's very reason for living, lay sleepily across Parker's chest as the boy perched on a barstool, surrounded by somber friends and family and utterly confused. Bones wasn't dead, nor permanently mentally or physically incapacitated, so why was everyone acting as though she was? All these people - Angela, Hodgins, Cam, Max, Caroline, Jared and Padme, Hank, Sweets, Daisy, Wendall, Clark, Russ, Amy, Hayley and Emma, even Zach, who had been released from some sort of facility temporarily and was under Sweets's express supervision - were gathered in their house in support of Bones. He knew she had a broken arm, he had glimpsed the electric blue cast, and he had overheard that she also had broken ribs, a black eye, a split lip, a sprained ankle, and severe bruising. But none of her injuries explained why she hadn't spoken in four days, why she wouldn't hold Mallory, why there were all these people in their home, treading carefully around something Parker wasn't able to comprehend. Both Bones and his father had been injured, occasionally severely, multiple times, and neither had acted as Bones was behaving now. The doctor herself had taught Parker to use logic when a situation puzzled him, and logic left him at the conclusion that something was missing. He simply did not have all the evidence.

Then again ...

He had heard them mention the word, in hushed tones, as if they were discussing death. He didn't know what it meant and was sure, for whatever reason, that they intended to keep him in the dark. But his father caught murderers, Parker reasoned. What could be worse that what he'd already seen, what he already knew about?

This thought in mind, Parker dodged around a toddling Mikey Hodgins and slid into the comfortable computer chair, Mallory held carefully against his chest. Then he proceeded to open a search engine and type in four fateful letters, the letters that had changed all of their lives forever.


	2. The Mendacity in the Morning

*****~* The Failure in the Fairytale *~***  
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**Hey everybody! Thanks for the reviews! Feedback is especially important to me, because I want to know how well I'm writing Booth and Brennan. I wrote for Grey's Anatomy for 2 ½ years, but I want to know if I'm doing BB justice, considering that their dynamic is much more complicated than anything on Grey's. Constructive criticism would be great. Also, since I am fairly new to the Bones fandom, fic recommendations would be great as well.  
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**Also: This chapter contains an explicit (consensual) sex scene. Please do not read if that bothers you.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<br>Four days earlier**  
><strong>Temperance Brennan<strong>

Sky strewn brushes had barely began to paint the sky a dusky purple when Temperance Brennan awoke suddenly, her periwinkle eyes glowing in the neon light of the alarm clock that read 4:47 am. She lay swathed in warmth for several minutes, enjoying the feel of the well-muscled chest of her monogamous partner, Seeley Booth, against her silk-covered back. Normally she might snuggle back under the downy blankets and lose herself again in the wily, mysterious strands of sleep, but today she had an identification to make before she and Booth interviewed a suspect that just happened to be a mermaid.

Not a real mermaid, of course, Brennan thought. Mermaids didn't exist and were simply creatures of myth. Besides, if the skin of a human were submerged in salt water constantly, it would certainly not look as pretty and pristine as the skin of the mermaids Angela had painted on Mallory's walls. No, this was a _fake _mermaid who dressed so in order to amuse young children. Brennan thought privately that subjecting children to such abject unreality was not healthy for their growing intellects and their sense of actuality, but she had learned that similar opinions tended to offend people rather than cause them to amend the error in their ways.

However, the identification of a possible specimen of _Homo erectus _and the prospect of broiling the mermaid later on with Booth were not all that had Brennan wide awake. Pressed up against Booth as she was, she could feel the stirrings of a morning erection against the posterior surfaces of her thighs and suddenly felt extremely alert. Debating internally for a moment, Brennan decided that the identification of the human remains she had received could wait at least until 6am. This thought on her mind, she dove back under the covers until her head was level with the waistband of Booth's sweatpants. Grinning wickedly and already picturing the glazed, rapturous quality of Booth's eyes when he woke to her ministrations, she blew hot air over the section of skin above his sweatpants, causing him to shiver involuntarily in his sleep, and then moved on to more _interesting _areas.

Hooking deft fingers under the fleece-covered elastic, Brennan lowered first the sweatpants and then the smiley-face-patterned boxers, rolling her eyes a bit as she did. She found his cock more than halfway hard and took a moment to run the tip of her tongue along its rigid underside. A moan sounded from somewhere above the blankets, but she could tell from the relaxed state of Booth's body that he was still lost in dreamland. The large organ had tightened and lengthened with that simple touch, and the result sent a rush of satisfaction to Brennan's head – she might not have been good at many human interactions, but _this _she excelled at – the thought was pleasing to her. Continuing, she placed gentle fingers against Booth's hipbones and rubbed soft patterns as her cherry lips enveloped his head.

Booth's entire body jerked in his sleep, informing Brennan that it would not be long before he woke. Working quickly to maximize his pleasure before the inevitable, she bobbed forward, briefly deep-throating the magnificent length before popping it from her mouth and running her teeth down the length of it several times, gently scraping. Her hands moved to his balls, stroking and squeezing gently as she once again devoured his cock, feeling him thrust involuntarily into her mouth a few times before she began to hum.

The soft myriad of vibrations from her throat finally woke Booth, who stirred with her hovering on his sweet lips. Gently, he withdrew his cock from her mouth and hooked arms under her shoulders, tugging her until they were once again level. Words threatened to tumble from his mouth but Brennan swallowed them with a searing kiss, rolling her tongue along his bottom lip until their tongues were allowed to mingle in a furious duel. As usual, Temperance began to lose track of their actions as their heady dance of love continued. She felt him kick his sweats and boxers completely off his body, registered his hands slipping up her nightgown, pulling it over her head, cupping her breasts and pinching and nipping at her nipples. Wetness pooled between her begging thighs and she arched into him, her teeth claiming his shoulder as she struggled to keep quiet, they could not wake Parker and Mallory, both slumbering obliviously down the hall. His greedy hands devoured her milky skin, discarding her panties until she was bare, wet and glistening before him.

An animalistic moan welled inside her the second his hand encountered her slick pink folds and she knew that an intense and passionate rush was not far off. Summoning her mental faculties, she breathed, "Booth," before the sound tapered off into a moan. A second attempt yielded slightly more fruitful results. "Booth, I – I need … you inside me," she panted in his ear, momentarily relinquishing her mouth's grip on his deltoid.

"Your wish, my command," he breathed, withdrawing his fingers and replacing them with the head of his cock, which made a trail from her clit to her entrance, causing her to whimper desperately.

"I … don't … know what … that means," she murmured in broken, strangled gasps as he continued to tease her mercilessly. "But … right now … I really don't … care, Booth!"

His chuckle was punctuated with frantic inhales. "Doesn't matter. I love you, Bones," he whispered before sheathing himself gently inside of her, and though she meant to respond, she figured the meeting of their eyes – sky and chocolate – said what she intended anyway. Booth's thrusts began slowly, torturing her with aching need, but he soon surrendered to his urges as well, and soon the only sound in the room was their uneven breathing and their slick bodies colliding and connecting. Brennan entwined her legs around his back, forcing him deeper inside her and causing them both to groan, and she knew they both were close, so close – heat and want were building between her thighs.

"Booth, I … I'm …"

"Let go, baby. Come for me," Booth urged, and with his next powerful thrust, she fell apart in his arms, screaming into his shoulder at the pleasure that was almost too much to comprehend. The first of her inner contractions triggered his orgasm as well and he emptied his load inside her, both of their bodies pulsing, wrapped in darkness, somehow one. Minutes later, Brennan noted how she could feel both his wild heartbeat and her own, due to the singular closeness of their chests, her breasts pressed against his solid planes. Booth rolled carefully off her and onto the pillow next to her, so near that their noses touched. Grinning, Brennan kissed him lazily, communicating the many feelings swelling her heart with touch instead of a jumble of words.

"Have I ever told you you're beautiful?" Booth asked, hand buried deep in her auburn curls, a slight smile decorating his handsomely carved face.

"Yes," Brennan responded, "many times." Too late she arrived at the conclusion that Booth's question was rhetorical, simply his way of expressing his admiration for her, but she figured he was so used to her literality that he expected an answer.

"Well, I'm sayin' it again, Bones. Heart, mind, soul and body, you're heart-stoppingly beautiful."

"I would hope my beauty doesn't stop hearts, as that would be manslaughter at the very – you're being facetious," she reasoned halfway through her musing. "Thank you, Booth. You're very symmetrical and well-structured too."

The two were silent for a few lingering moments, before Brennan asked, "That thing you said – about wishes and commands – what did you mean?"

"Jeez, Bones, will ya watch a Disney movie once in a while? Mallie's gonna be all over those in a few years. It's from Aladdin. Oh come _on_, Bones, Aladdin? The one with the genie? Three wishes?"

"I'm sorry, Booth, I've never seen that film," Brennan replied, extricating herself from Booth's arms as she spotted the time on the alarm clock next to him, its glow was much less glaring as light filtered slowly into the room, a result of the slowly climbing sun. "Maybe, though, we could all watch it together tonight?"

"Sounds like a plan, Bones."

"I like this," she stated vaguely as she slithered from the bed, aware of Booth's eyes on her nude form.

"Like what?"

"Having plans. I never used to have plans, Booth," she stated frankly, the remnants of lonely nights stinging in the back of her mind. "I used to arrive home around eleven, if I left the lab at all, and either read or write while having a glass of wine. That was the extent of my 'plans.' Now I have real plans."

"I'm glad you have plans now, Bones," Booth said softly, his voice laden with apologies for things that were not his fault. If he only knew lonely nights were the least of her sorrows … but Temperance was determined not to tell him, at least not yet, for fear of the danger his own reaction could put him in. He'd never held back, when it came to her and her safety, and this? This knowledge might destroy him.

Having donned a calf-length skirt, a plum purple henley, and a charcoal peacoat, Brennan crossed to the other side of the bed to bid Booth goodbye – at least until later. In the few minutes that had lapsed between conversations, he had traipsed again toward the subtly spun fabric of dreams. It seemed a crime – a metaphorical crime, as obviously she couldn't be actually charged with anything just for waking her boyfriend – to rouse him, his face had relaxed into softer tones than when awake, giving him the appearance of a small boy – he looked extremely similar to Parker. Smiling, she tiptoed from the bedside, heels in hand so as not to wake him, and shut their bedroom door.

Later she would regret not giving him one last kiss goodbye.

The nursery lay between their room and Parker's and was gently illuminated with the light of early dawn. Brennan padded softly inside across the plush carpet, heading toward her daughter's crib. Mallory Christine Brennan Booth lay sprawled on her back, clothed in a sleeper with a pattern of friendly (or so Booth had said, based on their unrealistic smiles) pink giraffes, a plush neuron tucked under one arm (Brennan still found the toy amusing, Angela, on the other hand, had been horrified). The baby was a fairly equal mix of her and Booth – her eyes, nose, and hair color, Booth's mouth, smile, and facial mannerisms. Mallory's tiny arms were still endearingly adorned with adorable rolls of fat, her cheeks were baby smooth and chubby, her eyes cerulean blue instead of icy blue, like her mother's.

She was the most beautiful thing Brennan had ever seen or done, and the urge to cradle her baby in her arms was both inborn and extremely powerful. Reasoning that Booth would bring Mallory into the lab later on, so she could watch the going-ons with innocent eyes and high-pitched giggles from Brennan's flower patterned sling, she reluctantly slipped away from the white sleigh crib, leaving the baby to her dream-laden peace.

On her way out, Brennan awarded the mermaids – beautiful creatures with pale skin and glistening aquamarine tails – with a frown, they were obviously creatures of myth and the result of a badly lost battle with Angela, as Mallory's room was painted similar to Neverland. Silvery unicorns grazed in a flower-strewn meadow, a powder blue castle peeked through the enchanted forest, and fairies flitted in and out of every nook and cranny. It was a beautiful fantasy, and the only reason Brennan allowed it was because she wanted Mallory to have access to the illusions she had been robbed of much too early. She would never lie and tell Mallory that such things existed, because her daughter's disappointment would be paramount when she found they did not, and while Brennan knew disappointment was inevitable, she hoped to prevent as much of it as she was able.

Her next stop was Parker's room. She and Booth cherished each moment they got to spend with the young boy as he sprouted and grew right before their eyes. After months of negotiations, Rebecca finally agreed to let Parker spend every other week with Booth, Brennan, and his baby sister. Currently, they were five days in to Rebecca's six-week-long honeymoon with Brent, and things, in Brennan's opinion, seemed to be going well. Parker had been over the moon (metaphorically, Brennan added) about his poolside birthday bash his dad and her had thrown for him, and each day he spent in their house he made sure to dote on Mallory and aid her rapid development by amusing her with age-appropriate toys.

Currently, Parker lay only halfway on the bed, his other limbs thrown at various angles, a spot of drool rapidly forming from his slightly open mouth. Sometime in the last year, he had ceased to look like the young child Brennan had always pictured – his face slimmed, his body shed the last remnants of baby fat, and he grew several inches. He now resembled his father more than ever and Brennan was grateful to be a part of his life.

Smiling, Brennan exited the boy's room and headed through their suburban paradise, stopping only in the kitchen to snag a granola bar and a sip of orange juice. Outside, the sprinklers rotated cheerfully, dispensing their sustaining loads, as Brennan made her way to her Prius, content with the life that echoed that which she once had, thought she hadn't wanted, and now relished.

By the time Brennan pulled into the Jeffersonian parking garage, her mind had shifted to _Homo erectus_ and other work related thoughts. It was truly a remarkable find, and it was gratifying to know that while she could not be present in Indonesia because of her responsibilities at home, she could still participate in anthropological and archeological discoveries.

So focused was she on early man, so eager to dissect his ancient bones and ferret out their secrets, Brennan did not notice the man emerge silently from the white van parked several spaces away. Her strides were brisk and purposeful, such that her stalker had to break into a quick run in order to catch up. Registering movement in her peripheral vision, Brennan spun around – only to be met with a glancing blow to the head. Disoriented and dizzy, she managed to stay on her feet and land a well-aimed kick on her attacker's kneecap.

The man, his face obscured by a ski mask, lest anyone bear witness, merely let out a grunt and came at her again. Brennan lashed out, but the man's aim was to tackle her and he succeeded, they fell toward the ground in a tangle of limbs. Heart racing, Brennan opened her mouth to yell for help, the logical course of action, despite the unlikelihood of anyone being present at six in the morning, but she only managed a strangled gasp before the man clamped a hand over her mouth and rammed a needle into her upper arm.

The parking garage blurred almost instantly.

"How do you like that, bitch, huh?" the man spat, panting heavily as he watched her succumb to the drug. Brennan raised a hand, only to find that her limbs no longer obeyed her, she was sinking into something large and dark and overpowering. Rationality abandoned her quickly, terrified, she tried to yell for Booth, because Booth could save her.

Booth always saved her.

But the words wouldn't come. _Booth, please._ Her body crumpled. _Booth! _The man was saying something … "beautiful" … touching her face, removing her jacket … _No, please, Booth!_ Lifting her … _Booth _...

Her last thought was of the genie. _Your wish, my command_ …

_I wish for Booth to save me …_


End file.
